TURKISH DELIGHT by Barry Faulkner (ebook reader wifi .TXT) 📗

aimed at the road. Right on cue, the jeep arrived. They stopped fifty yards down the road as soon as they saw the van and two of the three soldiers got out and walked, half hidden behind it with their rifles up as it moved slowly forward – at least they had some training! I’d left the van driver’s door open to look like I’d made a quick escape; they approached it slowly and after some chat spread out twenty feet apart and started to enter the undergrowth towards the sea. I gave them five minutes and then crept over the road, and keeping to the side of the jeep they wouldn’t be able to see I took my knife and punctured the two tyres; then I was back into the van and away.

I took out my mobile, turned it on and brought up the location app; the red dot where I had set it on the beach was flashing, but it was still quite a way to go and reinforcements for the soldiers would be on their way as soon as they got back to the jeep and radioed in. At least the moonlight gave me the option of driving without lights which would keep my position a bit more secure. I checked the time – shit! Quarter to one and I still had to cross half a mile of thick undergrowth on foot to get to the shore after reaching the right place on the road. The bloody accelerator wouldn’t go down any further. I hoped Jones would be a bit lax with his clock; stupid thing was I should have put the comms in my rucksack and then I’d be able to contact him, I but I hadn’t as any transmission between us could easily be picked up and give the location away.

I pulled up at the roadside a hundred metres before I got parallel with the beach where the app was flashing. I couldn’t hide the van so I drove it as far as I could into the scrub on the other side of the road; that might give me a bit more time and confuse whoever was going to come after me that I’d gone inland. I ran the final hundred metres and turned into the sloping scrub and forest, trying hard to pick my feet up and take long steps rather than push through and leave an obvious trail. Mind you, if my chasers had dogs then I’d better get into the water as soon as I could.

I made it the beach without hearing or seeing any activity up on the road. I went to the water’s edge and strained my eyes looking for a boat shape in the dark waves offshore; nothing, but at least there wasn’t a storm to contend with. Taking out my torch I started with the three short and one long signal Jones had said to use. Checking the time on my mobile it was one ten – had they been and gone? I carried on flashing, forming a plan in my mind of what to do if I got no response. No doubt the Turkish Military would launch a full scale search for me at daybreak, so the best plan would be for me go back to the road and away the other side of it, or maybe take the van and drive further along the road towards the Syrian border and hide up there. I wouldn’t think the Turks wanted to do anything military near that border which could be used as provocation by the Syrians and their Russian masters.

I thought I saw a light between the waves. I did, I saw it again. I kept flashing my signal and soon the dark outline of the FB was visible between the waves coming towards me. My elation was killed as the sounds of sirens and motor engines filtered down from the road, I looked back and it seemed the whole of the road was filling up with headlights and vehicles pulling up. Voices echoed through the trees – Christ! It seemed the whole Turkish army were coming for me. I waded out as fast as I could to meet the FB, which was making its way towards me bouncing through the waves.

‘You just about made it then,’ said Jones, pulling me aboard. ‘Another couple of minutes and we would have gone. What the hell’s going on up there at the road – are they after you?

I fell into the boat with a feeling of great relief as Taylor increased the revs a little, not enough to be heard on land, and we headed out to sea.

‘Yes, I blew up their ammo dump. I don’t think they liked that.’

The whistle of bullets through the air above us had Jones flinging himself down joining me on the boat floor with Williams. Williams looked at Jones.

‘Return fire, sir? We have company starboard side?’

We looked, and there about a mile away the lights of three fast Turkish Naval skiffs were heading our way lights blazing in the darkness.

‘Bloody Hell! Get onto base and have some support come out to meet us. Taylor, open her up.’

The FB jolted into warp speed as Taylor pushed the engines to max and hit the injector switch. Williams got on the radio and Jones pulled open a compartment door on the boat floor and lifted out a bazooka  and pointed to a box of rockets inside. ‘You know how to load one of these, Nevis?’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay, grab those and let’s go.’ He hoisted the tube onto his shoulder, positioning the shoulder stop flange and knelt on the starboard side, aiming it over the edge of the FB. Took a rocket from the box and opened the bazooka lid – that’s the end cover – pushed in a rocket until it clicked into the breach before closing it and securing the hasp. I tapped